Short stories about the subsidiary characters of the trilogy "Behind a Veil of Darkness, Books One, Two and Three."

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Les Bund Part Two

Les Bund Part Two

Gayle was already
through the front door with Gary close behind as Les stopped and allowed the
two cops to enter as he scanned the street before stepping in, closing the door
and locking it. Both of the children and Emily came out of the kitchen and stepped
to the side as the cops entered and Gayle asked them to sit. After going
through the cupboards earlier in the morning, she knew where to find what she
needed to serve the officers.

Les held out his hand
to shake and introduced himself; the two officers, John Connelly and Darin Hyde
introduced theirselves as well.

“So,” Les started.
“Why are you guys on foot?”

Hyde answered,
“Front suspensions and the flood curbs we have around here don’t mix very well.”
He pointed at Connelly, “John was driving and a civilian ran a red light and
clipped us. We bounced off the other car and into one of those damn high curbs.
The impact almost tore the right front wheel off the unit.”

“You couldn’t call
for back-up to get you back to your station?” Gary asked.

“Well,” Gary
started. “I guess I can give you a ride in after you have a quick bite to eat.”

Connelly nodded as
he accepted a cup of coffee from Gayle, “We’d really appreciate that if you
don’t mind.”

While Connelly
sipped his coffee Hyde asked, “You folks seem to be pretty well armed; you
wouldn’t happen to have any 5-5-6, or 2-23 Remington we could get off of you?
We’re both almost out of ammo.”

“Sorry,” Les said.
“All the rifles use 7-6-2 by 39 and the pistols use 7-6-2 by 25. Once you get
back to the station you can resupply there, right?”

“I wish,” Hyde
grumbled. “When we left last night they handed us two thirty round mags a piece
and told us to make it last. The only people with a shitload of mags and ammo
are the County and City SWAT guys.” Emily frowned at the officer’s use of
profanity. “Sorry, Ma’am, but it’s been a long and stressful night.”

“Don’t worry about
it,” Gary said. “Believe me; we know how stressful this morning has been. We
had to shoot one of the infected in the entrance to my house.”

Les instantly went
tense as the two officers both looked up at Gary.

“You had to shoot
someone this morning?”

“Yeah, it was all
I could do to get a bullet into him while Les held him down.”

Jesus, Les thought, It might be a good idea to shut-up, Gary!

“Did you shoot him
in the head?” Hyde asked.

“Yeah, Les shot
him three times, but the guy kept coming until I shot him in the head.”

Hyde sipped at his
coffee as Connelly said, “You’re lucky, most folks don’t discover until it’s
too late the only quick way to put them down is a head shot.”

Les began to relax
as he opened the refrigerator, “What would you guys like, bacon and eggs with
hash browns okay?”

“Anything quick
and easy,” Hyde responded.

“I’ve got a box of
breakfast sandwiches, Sausage, eggs, and cheese on English muffins. I can throw
them in the microwave.” Opening the freezer he pulled out the box and checked
the contents, “In fact, I’ve got enough here for everyone.”

Connelly glanced through
the window in the rear door where he could see Hyde talking animatedly into the
microphone of his radio. “I saw the bars on the front windows when we came in;
I see you have the rear door secured also. Does the whole house have security
bars?”

“Yeah, now I’m
wishing I would have had the cameras installed too.”

“That would be
sweet,” Hyde answered.

Connelly looked
back to the door as Hyde came back in, “What’s the word?”

Hyde looked upset,
“Dispatch says they wanted everyone on patrol to report to the station, but now
it’s surrounded by infected.”

“What about your
family?”

“Nothing, they
never arrived at the station.”

The room grew
quiet as Gayle started placing the sandwiches on paper plates and then on the
table. “Maybe we can take you by your home before we take you to your station?”
She asked.

Hyde glanced
around at everyone as his expression brightened, but the look of hope slid
away, “No, dispatch says the freeways are starting to clog with people trying
to get out of town. If that’s the case it would take forever to get over to
Arcadia. The Lieutenant says he is going to try and get law enforcement over
there to swing by and check on them. UPD has already done the same for one of
theirs that lives in Upland.”

Emily walked into
the kitchen, “Les, there’s a man coming to the front door and he has a gun!”

Les quickly walked
from the kitchen towards the front door with everyone following. Stopping at
the door he looked through the window in time to see the man from across the
street knock. Placing his hand on his pistol, he opened the door.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hello,” the man
answered. “My wife, my kids and I were wondering…” He trailed off for a moment
and then rushed on, “We were wondering if we might shelter in your home? I have
some food I can bring over because we were going to have a bar-b-que this
weekend and we already bought all the meats, veggies, everything for about
thirty people. Plus my son and I have firearms, so we can help defend the
house. There’s just the four of us…it’s the bars on your windows; I always
hated the look of them, but their looking pretty good today, know what I mean?”

Les chuckled,
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He glanced around at the rest of his houseguests,
“What do you guys think?”

Hyde and Connelly
didn’t answer; Gayle nodded yes and then frowned when Emily shook her head no.
Gary said, “Sure.”

Les turned back to
the man and held out his hand to shake, “Looks like the “ayes have it; my
name’s, Les Bund.”

“Frank Connors,”
the man answered. “It will take a while to load up the food and the family and
then we’ll drive over, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Les
said. “When I see you coming I’ll open my side gate and you can park near the
rear door.”

“Thanks,” he said
and then ran back across Euclid to his home.

Emily seemed out of
sorts, “More guns, why are we letting people with guns come here? I mean…”

Gary frowned, “Em,
we need the guns. More guns equal more safety, surely you can understand that.”

“No, they don’t! I
was just reading a few days ago that you’re 42 times more likely to be killed
or injured by a gun in your home than to ever use it to protect yourself with
one!” She turned to Officer Hyde, “You know that, right? I mean you guys have
to deal with gun accidents and murders all the time, right?”

Hyde looked at his
partner and then answered, “Ma’am, let me put it this way, my wife has a gun
close-by anytime I’m gone. When I am gone it’s her job to protect our children
and when I’m home her job is to watch my back while I protect her and the
children. Your safety and the safety of your children are your responsibility,
it’s not mine, it’s not John’s, it’s not your neighbor’s, it’s yours.”

“Protecting us is
your job!” Emily said. “It’s your job!”

“Ma’am,” Hyde said
calmly, “Dial 911 right now and see who gets sent to protect you.”

Emily stuttered
for a few seconds and then walked away. A moment later Gayle said, “Sorry,” and
then followed her sister out of the room.

Gary watched her
leave and then said, “She used that same argument on me a couple of months ago
when I suggested we buy a gun. Now we have this crap going on.”

“This situation is
going to shake a lot of people’s moral foundations,” Les said. “I think we may
see an increase in gun ownership in California when this is over.”

“I hope so,” Hyde responded.
“We’ve seen so many cases where people could have protected themselves if they
just would have been armed.”

The room lapsed
into silence as everyone ate the sandwiches Gayle had prepared and as they
finished Hyde asked Gary, “When can you give us that ride?”

Before Gary could
answer, Les asked, “Didn’t you say the station was surrounded by infected
people?”

“Yeah, but they
said all of the officers in the field were supposed to gather together and try
to break through.”

“Okay, but what
are the chances the cops have as much ammo as the two of you?” Hyde and
Connelly glanced at each other before Les continued, “I can maybe spare a
couple of my SKS rifles until we help you get in, but I’m going to need them
back.”

Connelly nodded,
“The problem may be whoever takes us might have trouble getting back out.”

From the entrance
of the kitchen, Emily said, “Gary is not going; he has children to care for!”

“Emily…” Gary
started to say.

“Wait,” Les said.
“She has a point, but there really should be two of us that drive Hyde and
Connelly back. It could be very important for someone to ride shotgun.”

“I already said I
would drive them to their station,” Gary said as he glanced at Emily. “And I’m
not going back on my word.”

“Hold on, Gary,”
Les wanted to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand. “First off, both
of your cars are small and cramped. We need a bigger vehicle and I have what we
need; I’ve got a ton-and-a-half, four wheel drive, crew cab, dually in the
garage. We’ll take that.”

Gayle looked out
the kitchen window as a car drove past on the driveway, “Les, the Connors are
here.”

“Crap! I thought
it would take them longer to get loaded!” He said as he rushed towards the rear
door. Running out, he opened the rear gate and let them pass through, but he
suddenly noticed a group of six people running up his drive as the Connors
passed. There was no mistaking they were infected. Unslinging his rifle, he
brought it to his shoulder as he pulled the safety back and pulled the trigger
almost simultaneously. Then he fired again as Connelly and Hyde joined in with
their AR15s. Within moments all six of the infected were spread across the
driveway dead.

Frank, and his
son, both with rifles, ran up beside the three men as Hyde said, “Well, I’m out
of ammo for the carbine.”

“Me too,”
responded Connolly.

Connors looked at
their carbines and then asked, “Your ARs, are they chambered for 5.56 NATO?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve got some
ammunition you can have.”

“Really? That
would be great if we could get enough to reload our magazines.”

“How many mags do
you have?”

“Three apiece,”
Hyde said.

“180 rounds then?
I’ll give you a flat 200.”

“Thanks, so much,”
Connolly said and then continued, “Your ARs, are they California compliant?”

“Yes, they are.”

“Damn,” Connolly
said. “It would be nice if you had thirty round mags and didn’t have those
crappy “bullet buttons.””

“Yeah, but here in
Cali only the government gets nice toys.” Frank pointed at the bodies in the
driveway, “We should do something with the bodies, maybe drag them to the street
or something and then wash the blood down.”

“Yeah,” Les
agreed. “We should disinfect it also. I’ll get some bleach and a broom if you
guys want to take care of the bodies. Oh, and I have some vinyl gloves and dust
masks left over from a job I did a while back; we should probably wear them
when we handle the bodies.”

Everyone agreed
and they set about their tasks. When Les opened his garage to get a bottle of
bleach he looked at his dually. He used the truck occasionally for his job, but
it wasn’t primarily for work; it was his bug out vehicle in case he needed it.
At the moment it was equipped with stake sides, which would be easy for an
infected to scale, but with a little effort and time he could screw sheets of
plywood, he had set aside for the storm shutters he planned for his house, to
the truck. Grabbing a bottle of chlorine bleach, dust masks, vinyl gloves and a
broom he hurried back to the driveway.

The two police
officers were returning from the curb after dragging two bodies away and
accepted gloves and masks from Les. Gary, Frank, and Frank’s son Roger, stood
by watching the street with their weapons at the ready. Les began pouring
bleach on blood stains and then unreeled a garden hose to begin washing away
the bleach and blood. First he scrubbed the stains with his broom as Gayle
joined him with another broom.

“This will go
faster if I help,” she said.

“Thanks, Gayle.”
Within minutes the bodies were removed and the blood washed away. Les waved everyone
into the house and they gathered in the spacious living room.

“Okay, the next
thing we need to do is get John and Darin back to the police station. I’m going
to propose making some quick changes to my work truck before we leave,”

Connolly frowned,
“What kind of changes?”

“I have some
plywood I was going to use for a future home improvement project and I think it
might be to our best interests if I screw some of them to the side rails of the
truck; it will make it more difficult for any of the infected to climb into the
back.”

“Can’t we just
ride inside?” Connolly asked. “You said it was a crew cab, right?”

“Yes, we could,
but I don’t want to have to stop and shoot infected people that might climb
into the back of my truck. In addition, trying to shoot out the windows will
restrict our ability to bring our weapons to bear in a concerted manner. With
one or two shooters in the back I think we’ll be better off.”

“How many people
are you thinking about taking?” Gary asked. “First I was going to take them,
but you said I would need someone to ride shotgun on the way back. Now you’re
talking about an additional one or two in the back of the truck.”

“Well,” Les said.
“I was hoping you, Frank and Roger, and me would drive John and Darin to the
station.” He looked at the man and his son. Roger looked at his father and
Frank nodded in agreement.

“Whoa,” Gary said.
Who’s going to look after the women and children while we’re gone?”

Frank spoke up, “My
wife and daughter are pretty good shots if you have some spare guns they can
use.”

Les pointed to
Gayle and added, “Gayle is very good also and I have two extra SKS rifles Gayle
can show your ladies how to use.”

Frank glanced at
his wife and she quickly nodded her head in agreement, “Okay, sounds good. With
the security bars on your house I don’t think we need to worry very much while
we’re gone.”

“Alright,” Les
said. “I’m going to go out and get started on the truck; it shouldn’t take
long.” He looked to Gayle and said, “Gayle, can you take Mrs. Connor and her
daughter down to the basement and run them through how to use the rifles?”

“Okay.”

Frank stood up
from the couch where he was sitting, “Can I give you a hand? I have a little
construction experience.”

“Yeah, as a matter
of fact we could use one more person to hold the sheets of plywood up while we
screw them down.” Les looked at Frank’s son, “Roger do you want to help us
out?”

“John and I can,”
Darin said.

“No,” Frank
answered. “You guys need to get some rest; you look pretty worn out. The three
of us can handle the plywood.”

Les glanced at
Frank wondering if perhaps Frank didn’t like cops very much.

Hyde nodded,
“That’s a pretty valid point, I wouldn’t mind a nap.”

“What about me?”
Gary asked.

“Stay here in the
house,” Les answered. “Gayle is going to be in the basement with the Connor
ladies, so it might be best if you’re up here with Emily and the kids.” Gary
nodded and Les said to Frank and Roger, “Let’s go get this done.”

The three of them
walked out the back door and to the garage. As they entered Frank asked Les,
“Connolly and Hyde, I noticed before they didn’t seem to be very supportive of
California compliant ARs; what do you think they would say if I told them I had
a couple of lower receivers for my guns that didn’t have bullet buttons?”

Les stopped inside
the door and looked at him, “Do you?”

Frank nodded, “I
have some 30 and 20 round mags also.”

“With the current
circumstances, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t care if you used them.”

Frank turned to
Roger, “Son, go back to the car, take out the box of standard capacity
magazines, take them in and start loading them up. Send Gary out here to help
us. Use the two surplus cloth bandoliers for 20 round magazines for the police
officers and load up the twelve thirty rounders for us. Put the thirty round
mags in those new pouches I bought when we visited your uncle in Tucson; we’ll
keep and use those.”

“Okay, Dad.” Roger
quickly left the garage.

Les watched him leave
and then said, “Good kid. He listened to you and got about what you wanted
without any delay.”

“Yeah, he is. I’m
lucky both of the kids are turning out so well.”

“It helps to have
good parents to direct them.”

“I’m not so sure,”
Frank said. “I’ve known real assholes that had great kids, and great parents
that raised asshole kids. When you look at the nature versus nurture debate, I
sort of fall on the nature side. Kids are going to be what they are and not so
much what we’d like them to be.”

“I guess,” Les
said. “Maybe someday I’ll be able to comment on that from experience, but I’m
not holding my breath while I wait.”

“What do you
mean?”

“I don’t seem to
click very well with the ladies, you know?”

“Really? I thought
you and that woman Gayle were sort of an item judging from the way she looks at
you.”

Les looked at him
and frowned.

“I guess I
misjudged what I was seeing,” Frank muttered.

“Yeah, well, let’s
see what we can get going here.”

With Gary’s help,
Les and Frank measured the sides of the stake bed on the truck and were soon
using Les’ circular saw to cut the plywood to fit. With the smooth plywood in
place it would be difficult for an infected person to gain a purchase and climb
up the side of the bed. They were just finishing screwing the plywood down when
Les heard Gayle’s voice shouting his name.

“Les!”

The three of them
glanced around the inside of the spacious garage as Gary said, “What the hell…”

“Les, I’m in the
tunnel!”

Les trotted over
and looked down into the service pit of the last parking space in the garage.
Les’ father had covered the pit with sections of removable steel grating. He
could see Gayle staring up at him.

“Gayle?”

“The sound of your
sawing out here has drawn a lot of those crazy people!”

“Shit!” Les
exclaimed. “How many?”

“I’m not sure,
maybe thirty or forty. They’re in the backyard and some are out front!”

As Gayle was
speaking they heard a resounding crash on one of the galvanized roll-up doors.
Then another!

Les looked at
Frank and realized he only had the one short magazine in his AR 15. “How many
rounds do you have, Frank?”

Gary only had one
of the pistols stuck in his waistband. “Gary, do you have any spare mags for
the pistol?”

“No, I didn’t
think…I mean…we were going to be in here, so…sorry.”

“Alright, give me
a hand and we’ll lift out one of the grates; we can get back to the house
through there.” Les and Gary lifted the grate and slid it away. “You two go
back to the house and get armed up; I’m going to stay here and go up on the
roof beneath the solar array with my SKS and ammo. I’m going to start shooting
then I want the rest of you to shoot from the house. I don’t know if it will
help, but it might confuse the infected or something.”

“Okay,” Frank said
and then dropped down into the pit; he was quickly followed by Gary as another
loud crash vibrated the garage door. Les slid the grate back into place and
watched as all three disappeared into the tunnel.

“Lock the tunnel
door when you get to the basement in case they get into the garage!” Les
shouted after them. Running to his work bench, he dropped his web gear over his
head, grabbed his rifle and then ran to the ladder that went up to the roof of
the garage. Opening the roof hatch, he climbed through and then moved to the
edge of the garage beneath his solar array. Geez, there were a lot of the
infected crowded around the three roll-up garage doors. He wasn’t really
concerned about them getting past the roll-ups, but if enough of them attacked
the regular door they might get in. Carefully positioning himself, he began to
fire the rifle at the infected clustered around the garage.

Moments after he
started firing he heard gunfire from his house. Glancing over as he reloaded his
SKS, he saw John, Darin, Frank and Roger standing on the second floor balcony
that overhung the patio beneath. Where were Gayle, Gary, and Emily? Looking
farther, he saw another group of infected climbing the gate in the driveway and
then sprinting into the backyard; more were turning into the drive from the
street. Where the hell were they coming from? Why were they coming here? It had
to be as Gayle suggested, noise, they had to be drawn by the noise of first the
circular saw and now the rifle fire…shit!

It was too late
now. Les and his friends had no choice, but to continue shooting. Finished with
reloading the SKS Les resumed firing until he heard the sound of shattering
glass and a shrill scream. Looking back at the house he saw an infected man with
his arm thrust between the bars over the window of the rear door to the house.
Twisting around, he aimed at the man’s back, but as he started to squeeze the
trigger the man stumbled back and collapsed to the deck of the patio. The
muzzle of an SKS protruded out and he saw the muzzle flash as it was fired
before he returned his attention to the infected grouped about the garage
doors. He kept firing and reloading as more infected replaced the ones being
shot, and then something happened. He heard the sound of a motor coming from
his driveway and as he turned and looked the front of a large truck burst
through the gate of his driveway as it ran over numerous infected. He realized
it was a commercial armored transport truck and as it entered the backyard gunfire
erupting from its gun ports. Behind it, another truck of the same type had
pulled in behind the first and was blocking the driveway.

The tempo of the
gunfire from his house and the armored trucks increased as the infected began to
fall and litter the backyard with their corpses. Scant minutes later, there
were only a few of the infected left alive as they bled out from numerous
bullet wounds. The doors of the first truck opened and several armed men
stepped out; two of the men walked about and shot the alive, but incapacitated
infected as the third shouted towards Les’ home.

“Hello, the house!
All the Crazies are dead! It’s safe to come out!”

John Connolly
shouted from the second floor balcony, “We’re up here! Thanks for the help!”

“Yeah,” Connolly
answered. “These people gave us shelter when our patrol unit was damaged and
they are going to try and get me and my partner back the UPD Station.”

“Oh yeah? That’s
where my employees and I are headed. We heard the police station was surrounded
and we thought we’d see if we could give them a hand.” He pointed out past the
second truck, “I’ve got two more armored trucks in the street, do you want to
ride in with us?”

While the men were
talking back and forth, Les climbed down into the inside of the garage and then
out the door. He walked up and joined the man from the truck talking while
nodding at the other two who were making sure the infected were definitely
dead.

Holding out his
hand he said, “I’m Les Bund, the owner of the house. I can’t tell you how much
we appreciate your help.”

“No problem, my
name is Gus Banner,” the man said as he shook Les’ hand. “We saw all the
Crazies headed your way and thought we’d see what was going on. It looks as
though you had a pretty good handle on things though.”

Les laughed,
“Maybe, but I was sure glad when you guys showed up and opened fire.” Pointing
at the logo on the side of the armored truck les asked, “Banner Armored
Transport; can I assume you’re the owner?”

“Yeah, my dad was
the original owner and I took over when he passed away.”

Les saw several of
his people come out of the house and approaching, “We were just getting ready
to drive the two policemen in ourselves, maybe we can join up with your group
and give you a hand at the police station?”

“What kind of
vehicle do you have?”

“Crew cab dually
with a stake bed on the back; we just finished screwing plywood to the sides to
give us some protection from the infected.”

“Well, I’ve seen
some of these infected crazies jump and climb pretty high; are you sure you
want to try that?”

“Do you have room
inside of your trucks for more shooters?”

“Not really, I’ve
got a man for every gun port and it’s kind of cramped in there with our
supplies and extra ammo.”

“I guess we’re
back to my truck then,” Les said.

“How many armed
folks do you have?” Gus asked.

Gayle came out of
the house and stood next to Les as Les answered Gus, “With the two cops we have
six men armed. I thought we would leave the women here where they will be safe
in the house.”

“You might need a
medic, Les,” Gayle said.

Frank came out of
the house and walked to the driveway where he studied the second truck blocking
the driveway. Satisfied no infected could get past the large vehicle he joined
Gayle, Les and Gus.

Gus looked at
Gayle, “Are you a trained medic?”

“I’m a nurse,” she
said, “And Les has a pretty good trauma kit I can use. Another point is I can
shoot rather well.”

“She can,” Les
said. “But I’d rather…”

“Good!” Gus said.
“You might come in pretty handy. It might be best if you ride in one of my
trucks though.”

“She can shoot
alright,” Frank said. “But she’s only thirteen. I’m not real comfortable with
her being armed in a high stress situation and like my wife, she doesn’t have a
gun.”

Gayle picked at
the shoulder strap of her web gear as she said, “With the SKS, all this ammo,
and the trauma kit I’m going to be overloaded; why don’t I leave the SKS for
your daughter and she can back-up your wife and my sister?”

“What weapon will
you use for protection?” Gus asked.

“Les gave me a
pistol,” she answered. “And I can carry five or six spare mags.”

Everyone looked at
each other for a moment and then Gus said, “Sounds good to me, but we need to
make a decision right now; I want to get back on the road.”

Gayle started
backing up as she said, “Just give me a minute to go over the guns with Frank’s
wife and daughter and switch out to the pistol and extra magazines.” She turned
and hurried away.

Gus watched her
leave and then said, “You’re wife seems to have her shit together.”

“She’s not my
wife,” Les said.

“Really?” Gus
looked back at her as she disappeared into the house. “I sort of thought the
two of you were together because of how she stood next to you. Is she with
someone else?”

“No,” Les answered
rather abruptly.

Gus smiled, “Maybe
soon?”

Les pointed over
his shoulder with his thumb, “I’ll pull my truck out of the garage and get some
supplies loaded. We’ll need bottled water and some form of food in case we’re
out for a while.”

“Okay,” Gus said
as he watched Les quickly walk away.

In the garage, Les
loaded two cases of bottled water and one case of MREs. Gus had said he had
supplies in his armored trucks so Les wasn’t concerned about supplying his men.
He glanced at his tank of diesel fuel and fuel cans, but the police station
wasn’t that far from his home and he didn’t anticipate needing more than what
the main fuel tank of his truck already held. Opening his garage door he then
pulled the truck out and closed the door behind him. One bad thing he hadn’t
ever thought of; the canteens and butt pack on his web gear seriously hampered
his driving by pushing him into the steering wheel. Starting to take his LBE
off he saw Roger come out the back door of his house and hand Frank a series of
ammo pouches that Frank slung over one shoulder and a large canteen he placed
over the opposite shoulder; Roger was wearing the same set-up.

Les waved them
over and when they joined him he asked, “Frank, the gear I’m wearing makes it
difficult to drive the truck, but I see you and Roger have different set-ups,
would you mind driving with Roger as your shotgun?”

“No, I don’t mind,
but does your truck have an automatic transmission, or a stick?”

“It’s a manual
transmission, you can drive one, right?”

“I can, but Roger
has never driven a stick, if he has to take over for me…”

“Damn,” Les said.
“Okay, we’ll just have to deal with it some…” Gayle walked out with the trauma
kit slung over one shoulder and stood talking to Gus until Les waved to her.
When she joined them Les asked, “Gayle, can you drive a stick shift?”

“It’s been a
while, but it’s like riding a bike, so yeah.”

“Have you ever
driven a large truck?”

“Yeah, I worked
for my Dad’s delivery service when I was going to college.”

“Okay, can you ride
in the backseat in case Frank is incapacitated in some way, so you can take
over?”

“Okay, but if
someone is injured and they need me to work on them and I need to drive…”

“Shit,” Les said.
He looked around and called Gary over. “Gary, you can drive a stick shift,
right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, you ride
shotgun for Frank and Roger will ride in back with me, John, and Darin.”

“Okay,” Gary
answered.

“Everyone ready?”
He asked. Everyone nodded, “Okay, let’s load up.” As everyone began to get into
the cab or the back of the truck Les walked to Gus.

“Gus, are you
ready?”

“Yeah, do you have
a CB radio in your truck?”

“No, but I have four
walkie-talkies that I pass out to guys on my work crews so we can talk on the job.”

“Good, we have CBs
even though we don’t use them much. How about we all tune in to channel one and
go from there?”

“Sounds good,” Les
said. “What route are you going to take to the station?”

“The most direct
route; we’ll go straight down Euclid to 13th and then straight over
to the police station.”

“Alright,” Les
said. “We’ll follow your trucks, okay?”

“You bet,” Gus
said as he directed the driver of the truck blocking the driveway to back out
before he climbed into his own.

Les ran to the
back door of his house and stepped inside, “Emily! We’re leaving now, so lock
all the doors and do not go outside for any reason what-so-ever, okay?”

Emily walked into
the kitchen, “Okay, Les. Tell Gary and Gayle to be careful, please?”

“We will be,” he
answered. "I don’t think we’ll be gone long, but if we are don’t worry about
it.”

She nodded as Les
closed the door and then climbed into the back of his dually. Stepping to the
front he tapped on the rear slider window and motioned for Gayle to unlock it,
which she did.

“Gayle, there are
walkie-talkies in the center console. Give one to me, one to Gary, and you keep
one, okay?”

She nodded and
pulled the radios from the console and passed them out, “I guess this is it,
huh?” Her eyes were rather round and as she handed Les his radio she squeezed
his hand, “You guys be careful back there.”

Les smiled and
squeezed her hand in return as he asked, “When this is all over, maybe we can
get a cup of coffee together sometime?”

“Here, or in San
Diego?”

“Well, uh,
wherever you want.”

She smiled as she
said, “Sure.”

He told her to
close and lock the rear window as he stood and grabbed the top of the plywood
siding as Frank turned onto Euclid and followed the armored trucks.

John moved next to
Les and asked, “So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan? Shit, I
have no idea and we won’t until we get there.”

John smiled,
“Cluster fuck, I feel right at home.”

“Ow!” Roger said
loudly. “I got a splinter!”

Les glanced at him
as Roger hooked his elbow over the side of the plywood and began to dig at his
palm with his fingernails. Darin leaned close to examine Roger’s hand and then
looked him in the eye, “Do you want to know what we said when someone got
wounded in Afghanistan?”

Roger looked up at
the big policeman and asked, “What?”

“Rub some
dirt on it and get back in the fight.”

They stood there
staring at one another and finally Darin laughed as he rubbed Roger’s hair and
turned away. Roger frowned and then held his hand up to the sun trying to see
the splinter. Les turned around and saw Gus’ trucks make the turn at 13th
and head west. Frank followed them. At Mountain Boulevard two of the armored
trucks went through the signal and two others were stopped as the light turned
red. Frank stopped behind them and waited as the first two trucks slowed to a
stop on the other side of the intersection and waited for them. Behind them a
pickup truck with half a dozen armed men in the back pulled up and stopped as
well.

“Jesus,” Les said
aloud. “We’re trying to rescue the police and we’re waiting on a damn red
light!”

“Hey!”

Les turned around
and saw one of the men in the rear of the pickup waving at him. “Yeah?”

“Are you headed
for the UPD Station?”

“Yeah! You too?”
Les asked.

“Yeah! We’re going
to follow you guys, alright?”

“Sounds good!” Les
shouted back.

The light turned
green and the growing convoy of volunteers accelerated through the
intersection. Darin was speaking into his radio and suddenly shouted at Les,
“Get on your radio! Tell Gus not to approach the station from the east; a group
of civilian militia has blocked the road just west of the station and are
shooting at the infected down 13th in our direction!”

Les immediately
passed the word to Gus and the armored trucks slowed to a halt. Darin was
listening to his radio again and finally said, “The station is organizing all
the shooters they can contact. They want to set up an ELL shaped formation with
the foot at the west entrance to the station and everyone else on the south
side of the street. They’re suggesting anyone that wants to help to get on the
roofs of the modular homes across the street from the station so they can fire
down at the infected and be somewhat safe from them and from friendly fire.”

Les relayed the
information to Gus and then Darin spoke again. “I told them we had four armored
transport trucks and the Chief says if the trucks were to bear down on the
crowd of infected they could literally kill hundreds by simply running over
them!”

Once again Les
relayed the information and discussed with Gus what they should do. Finally, he
turned to those around him as John fired his patrol carbine at a nearby
infected. “We’re going to turn around and drive back down Mountain to see if we
can find a way over to the modular home tract the Chief told us about. Gus will
keep his trucks here until we are in position and then make a run down 13th
with two of the trucks to see what kind of damage he can do. While he’s doing
that we start picking off the infected from the roofs of the houses across the
street. Is everyone good with that?”

From behind him
Les heard someone from the pickup shout, “Hey! My aunt used to live in there
and I know how to get there from here! Do you want to follow us?”

“Lead the way!”
Les shouted.

They definitely
knew where they were going and how to get there, but first they had to put down
several infected before they could dismount from the trucks. Once out they
searched until they found several ladders and the two groups of shooters
climbed to the roofs of the modular homes that overlooked 13th.
Without delay, they set about firing into the mass of infected milling about
the police station. Les called Gus on his radio and informed him they were in
position and within moments two of Gus’ armored trucks accelerated down 13th
towards the police station. As the trucks approached, Les and his fellow
shooters slacked off on their gunfire to observe the effects they would have on
the crowd. The infected at the east end of the crowd turned at the sound of the
trucks and began running towards them as the heavy vehicles bore down on them
like juggernauts. The trucks began slamming into the people running towards
them; the bodies were literally being propelled dozens of feet away as they
were struck. Those that were thrown forward and down in front of the vehicles
were crushed by the weight of the vehicles as they passed over them. They were
twisted, turned, and torn apart as their bodies tumbled beneath the speeding
behemoths. Finally, the trucks hit the main body of the infected and Les was
stunned by the sheer butchery that resulted.

Of all the
shooters on the roofs only one man cheered as the others simply stared at the
carnage. All firing ceased as they tried to accept what they were seeing. Les
finally shook himself and then shouted, “Don’t stop firing! We have to stop as
many as we can while they are confused! Shoot for the head!”

Everyone resumed
firing as the trucks slowed and finally came to a stop as the drivers began to
turn the vehicles around. Then the second two trucks began their run up 13th
as the first two began to pick up speed and once again pass through the crowd
headed back east. Where the four trucks passed each other going in opposite
directions a cloud of red mist exploded upwards and outwards. Reaching their
turn around points they once again reversed their directions and once again
began to race towards one another, this time though two of the trucks speeding
over the pavement, turned slippery with blood and body parts, clipped one
another as they passed. The truck heading west lost complete control, swerved
up onto the sidewalk, struck a lamppost, then flipped onto its side in front of
the police station and in the midst of the largest portion of uninjured
infected.

The wrecked truck
was instantly swarmed by the infected and they began to cover it with their
bodies as the scrambled over it seeking a way in. Les, and several others
concentrated their rifle fire at the infected on and around the vehicle, but
within moments a frantic cry came over the radio.

“Do not fire at
the truck’s bottom! The protection there is weak and high velocity bullets are
penetrating the metal floor!”

Les warned the
others and then shifted his fire to the side and top of the armored truck, but
turned as Gayle frantically pulled on the sleeve of his shirt. He couldn’t hear
what she was saying over the incessant gunfire, but he could see where she was
pointing; a group of infected were climbing the low block wall that separated
the housing tract from 13th. He shifted his aim and began shooting
them. In his haste, he started aiming for the torsos of the crazies because he
feared too many would make it to a point below the houses where he wouldn’t be
able to hit them. Maybe they would bleed out before they reached the
ladders…the ladders!

Les spun about and
started to run to the ladder they had used to access the roof they were on, but
Gayle was already there pulling the light-weight aluminum ladder up to the roof
where she dropped it. She then raced to the edge of the roof and began to wave
her arms at the men shooting from the next roof. She finally gained the
attention of one of them and with a propitious lull in the shooting warned him
to pull their ladder up also. The man ran to where the ladder was at, started
to lean over to pull it up, then stopped, swung up his bolt action rifle, fired
and then twice more downwards. Dropping the rifle beside him, he grabbed the
ladder and tried to pull it up, but it snapped back down. He lost his balance
and teetered back and forth before finally tipping too far and fell head first
off of the roof.

Gayle screamed for
help as she drew her pistol and emptied the magazine at the bottom of the
ladder. Les ran to her and fired once into the mass of infected that were
boiling over the fallen man, but had to stop and reload his rifle with another
stripper clip from one of his pouches. By the time he was reloaded and began to
fire into the crowd, the man who had fallen was dead. Two more men ran to the
ladder and while one shot the infected trying to climb it, the second pulled
the ladder up and out of the infected’s reach. Once the ladder was up, the two
men looked over the side at the gruesome spectacle below. One of the men
covered his eyes as the second started shooting into the crowd.

Les joined in
until all of the infected were down. Glancing over at the two men, he saw one
of them reload his bolt action rifle with only three rounds. They were using
hunting rifles that could only hold three cartridges legally. Though he wished
he had high capacity magazines, he was glad his SKS at least held ten.
Returning to his original position, Les saw the three remaining armored trucks
had pulled up next to the overturned one and were closely parked to it. Gunfire
was erupting from the trucks gun ports.

The day passed
slowly as Les and his friends’ ammo supply became depleted. When the sun began
to lower itself in the west the gunfire began to slow and finally stopped as
the infected fell one after the other until there were none left. Oddly, before
the shooting died away, some of the infected that had previously lay on the
street rose and began to stumble about, but they were not only shot, they were
also attacked by the infected surging around them. Les couldn’t fathom why the
infected should turn on their own; he hadn’t seen them do it before.

In the end, the
militia group that had blocked the west end of 13th came out from
behind their vehicles and slowly progressed down 13th to the east
shooting the infected one last time to be sure they were finished.
Checking his pouches, Les discovered he only had twenty rounds left. He had
never been particularly religious, but he thanked God his ammo had lasted the
day. Les wasn’t the only person short on ammunition; everyone in his
group were either out, or almost out of ammo.

Everyone on the
roofs stayed where they were until the members of the militia had passed by
before lowering their ladders and leaving the roofs of the modular homes.
Boarding their trucks, Les had Frank follow the pick-up out onto 13th
and into the driveway of the police station where John and Darin said their
goodbyes and entered the station to report in. As Les watched, Gus and his
followers attempted to return the overturned armored truck to its wheels, but
the road and sidewalk surfaces were too slick with blood for the other trucks
to gain purchase. Gus decided to return the next day with a wrecker and reclaim
the truck.

After gathering up
Gayle, Frank, Roger, and Gary, Les had Frank return to his house where they unloaded
and then set to the task of repairing the broken gate to Les’ backyard and
garage. Throughout the remainder of the day they had to periodically gather
together and take out small groups of infected that were drawn to the sound of
Les’ work tools. As the sun set, they entered the house and sat down to a meal
prepared by Frank’s wife, Emily, and Gayle.

Once they had
finished eating they sat down together in the living room and filled in those
who had stayed, with what had happened during the fight at the UPD station.

“Emily and I
listened to the news today,” Frank’s wife said. “They say armed civilians
everywhere started going out in groups and killed the infected. They say if we
keep it up we may see a slowing and maybe even a complete stop to the crazy
plague.”

“I suppose that’s
possible,” Les said, but he looked concerned.

Gayle rose from
where she was sitting and sat next to Les, “You don’t think so?” She asked.

“No, I think if everyone
continues with what we did today, then yes, I think we can eventually get
control of the infected, but there are other things to consider.” He looked at
Frank’s wife and asked, “Were there any estimates of how many people have been
infected or killed?”

Emily answered,
“They said tens of thousands of people have been killed and quite a bit more
infected.”

Les nodded, “I was
afraid that might be the case.”

Gayle listened
intently to what he said, and then asked, “What else are you concerned about?”

Les looked around
the room before he answered her, “I’m wondering how many of the dead, or
infected, had jobs that were critical to our infrastructure? How many people
would we have to lose before things start to break down? Can we hold things
together until others can be trained to take the place of those we have lost? I
don’t know.”

“Jesus,” Gayle
said. “Even if we manage to actually get control of the infected we could be
looking at some real trouble down the road.”

Les raised his
head and looked into her eyes, “I think so,” he said. “If we have lost too many
people with the knowledge we need, how long will it take for that loss of
capability to catch up to us?”

“If things get a
little better,” Gayle said. “I’d like to drive home to San Diego and maybe bring
some of my belongings here until we know for sure how things are going to turn
out. You know, my guns and other preps I have put away.” She reached out and
squeezed Les’ hand, “If I thought I’d be welcome.”

“You’d be more
than welcome,” Les replied. “Maybe I could drive you down?”

About Me

After working in the construction industry for thirty years, I returned to school and acquired a BA in History with an emphasis in genocide, and Human Speech Communication with an emphasis in Intercultural Communication. I currently live in the mountains of Southwestern New Mexico with Lori, my wife of 43 years and mother of my four adult children.